How to Shag Your Sensei
by iJapan
Summary: At the beginning of the semester Karakura High's English sensei, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, is convinced one of the new kids in his class is nothing but a typical 'trouble student'. But an unlikely friendship is formed when Kurosaki Ichigo eventually opens up to his teacher - and it all started with a narrative. Rated M for yaoi, warnings inside. My first teacher/student fic! NO FLAMES
1. A New Term, A New Day

**A/N: Yes, yes, I know I know. Another GrimmIchi fic in the FF community, and ANOTHER AU teacher/student scenario :P Welcome to my story! I've been working on this since October last year and I thought I may as well start uploading it. It's nowhere near finished, but I'm too impatient to keep this waiting any longer. **

**I wanted to try my hand at this particular AU scenario even though I know it's been written about to shit and back again. Consequently, because this is such a common AU theme amongst the FF community, if there are any similarities to other people's work whatsoever it is entirely coincidental and NOT intentional on my part. I actually haven't read any of the teacher/student scenario stories here, so I am saying that right now. **

**Disclaimer for all chapters: I don't own Bleach. Unfortunately. If I did though I'd certainly have a thing or two to change. **

**Warnings: This is YAOI, which means man sex. If you don't like this, why are you reading? Also, this story is rated M for a reason. This fic contains coarse language, mentions of drug, alcohol and domestic abuse and eventual GrimmIchi. But it's meant to be a happy story as a whole :)**

**My first teacher/student fic! I hope you enjoy :) **

******Cover image art © me.**

* * *

**How to Shag Your Sensei**

**Chapter 1: A New Term, A New Day**

Bells echoed around the school grounds of Karakura High, the trilling sound rising into an impatient blare, their deafening crescendo reverberating across pavements and walls.

The shrill ringing steadily became lost over the accompanying rumble of feet moving and voices yelling, students rushing to and fro to ensure they made it to their classes on time.

Arguments started within the corridors, fights ensuing over who would enter rooms first quickly escalating into angered brawls.

Teachers called for quiet, some moving to pull apart the rabble and others hurriedly shuffling along to their homerooms so they could prepare for the lesson.

Sighing and letting out a faint grunt of annoyance at the noise, his hand moving to raise the cup of coffee to his lips so he could take a sip of the welcoming liquid, the English teacher of Karakura High School, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, made his sluggish way towards class 1-3B.

Not particularly a morning person on the best of occasions, Grimmjow sighed again as he downed some more of his coffee, turning a corridor to head up the stairs and passing a group of senior students as he did so. He gave a nod of recognition to the students as they waved at him, otherwise continuing straight on his way without further interruption. A faint irate "tch…" passed his lips when a clamour of excited squeals nearly blew his eardrums out – a group of girls hugging and screeching ecstatically as they read off of the class lists to discover that they were in the same lessons for the term.

All these loud noises so early on in the morning were not doing wonders for his headache. Groaning faintly, he finished off his coffee and debated whether or not to take half the morning off to go back home and nurse what was quickly becoming a first-class migraine.

_Honestly, whoever the idiot was who decided school has to start so goddamn early really needs his ass kicked_, he thought as he eyed a bin nearby. Raising his hand he angled his wrist and tossed the empty styrofoam cup dead into the centre of the garbage bag, the cup landing soundly inside with expert precision. Sticking his now free hand into his jeans pocket, he slouched his shoulders as he turned yet another corridor. He bit back a heavy groan when the door plaque reading 'Room 1-3B' came into view along the right-hand side.

The first day of term was always a drain on the mind. He loved his job, after all he was often regarded as one of the best English teachers the school had ever employed, but those few days at the start of each new study period straight after the holidays always ran on his nerves.

_I wish they'd get more holidays. No one should be up this time of day_, he grumbled in his mind as he reached out a hand, sliding open the wooden door and bracing himself for the inevitable strain on his aching brain that would follow. Sure enough, the chatter and laughter that flooded the hallway as soon as the door opened was enough to wake the dead as he stepped through.

Heads lifted up, some conversations quietening down as he walked towards the teacher's desk, the students scrutinising him carefully as he placed his textbooks down upon the wooden surface.

"Alright, wrap it up people. Sit down, shut up, and pay attention." He called out, his rough-edged tone loud and clear over the voices of students who had yet to cease their talking. Sighing and pulling out a piece of chalk from his pocket, Grimmjow turned his back and made to write his name on the blackboard. When he had finished, he threw the chalk on the table and lifted his head to gaze at the new students he had for this second half of the year.

Some students were looking at him with eyebrows raised faintly, others turning their heads to murmur to one another.

Grimmjow brushed this off subconsciously like he did every semester; having been a teacher for five years, he was used to these types of reactions when he met new students. Standing tall at six foot one, his physique well-toned and his skin tanned, his hair an unruly tousled mass of blue coloured locks which accentuated the cyan blue of his irises along with the teal coloured tattoos lining his bottom eyelids, Grimmjow often had glances thrown his way whenever he walked into rooms.

He was quite a handsome man, 'deliciously so' as some of his female colleagues often noted to him, never failing to say in passing that he had a seductive appearance and voice to match which could most likely get any girl just by him standing there. Indeed, at 28 years old, he was referred to around the staff room and the remainder of the school by female teachers and students alike as Karakura High's most veritable 'Teacher I'd Like to Fuck'.

He brushed these comments off every year, simply ignoring them as mere background noise. It was amusing at first, but as his gaze briefly swept over the group in front of him and past the tables of girls in the front who were gazing at him with ogling eyes, it really did start to get more than annoying after a while.

"So, you're the new group, eh? I recognise a couple of ya from last semester." He continued as he noted some repeating students from the previous class sitting in the back row. He ignored once more the girls in the front who let loose delighted sighs as he spoke. "I don't even know _why _you'd fail last semester anyway, I mean it's not like you have to try hard to pass. It's just English for Christ's sake, not Kurotsuchi-sensei's Chemistry class." He grinned a little, his smile matching the wild appearance of his features as snorts of laughter rang out throughout the classroom.

It was an in-joke with the teachers and students of Karakura High that the teacher of Chemistry, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, was the resident 'Mad Scientist' and had succeeded in almost blowing up the laboratory on more than one occasion when students complained that his methods were far too complex to understand.

Reaching down to pick up his teacher's diary, Grimmjow flipped through the criteria pages to find the roll for this semester's class.

"Asano, put yer phone away." He called out as he found the page, taking it out and picking up a nearby pen.

One of the repeating boys from last semester seated in the middle row, Asano Keigo, lifted his head – his mouth comically wide in a large 'o' shape as he gaped at the teacher. The rest of the students turned their heads to look at him.

"S-sensei?" He stammered.

Grimmjow lifted his head, a blue eyebrow raised in amusement and a smirk on his lips.

"If you wanna text yer boyfriend, that's fine by me, but don't do it in class. It's painfully obvious you have your phone on ya. No one looks down at their crotch in class and smiles." He replied casually.

Asano Keigo's face went a humorous shade of red as the rest of the class broke out into fits of laughter. Keigo quickly turned his phone off and muttered a faint 'it's not my boyfriend' before bowing his head and avoiding the rest of the room's gaze. Grimmjow chuckled, moving to seat himself down on the teacher's desk and propping his feet up on a vacated chair in front of him. He was a very laid-back teacher, his street-style clothes and his sense of humour and the way he spoke instantly making him easy for his students to get along with.

"Ok, the sooner we do the roll, the sooner we can go over all the introductory shit and then the sooner we can get the hell out of here." He spoke louder, leaning back and placing pen to paper. He marked off the names of the students whom he had repeating his class and only focused on the newcomers.

"Abarai Renji?"

A male at the back with spiked red hair and the faintest hint of tribal tattoos on his forehead under a white sweatband raised his hand.

"Arisawa Tatsuki?"

An athletic looking girl with short spiked hair gave a faint grunt of acknowledgment. Grimmjow continued down the roll, receiving similar reactions to the first two students as he called out their names.

"Inoue Orihime?"

A busty girl with long orange hair sitting next to Arisawa waved excitedly, letting out a gasp as she accidentally knocked her entire set of textbooks and some of her bento box for lunch off of her desk. The girl flushed a bright shade of red in the face, fussing and giving a somewhat forced smile when the students around her picked the objects up and handed them back to her.

Grimmjow snorted a barely audible laugh.

_Freaking klutz._

"Ishida Uryuu?"

A boy with navy black hair and deep blue eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses nodded his head from where he was sitting in the front row. Grimmjow looked back at the list. There were no students listed under 'J', so he moved on to the 'K's.

"Kuchiki Rukia?"

A petite woman with black hair and indigo eyes seated near the window looked up from where she was studying her textbook. Three more names after hers were called out. He read the next name on the paper.

"Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow in amusement.

_'Strawberry', eh? Well, I've heard worse names_.

There was no reply from the class. Grimmjow lifted his head from the roll, gazing around the room.

"Kurosaki Ichigo?" He called out again, slightly louder in case the student hadn't heard him. Some of the class turned their heads and pointed to a teen who was sitting next to the window, beside Kuchiki Rukia. The girl flicked him on the shoulder, the youth stirring and shifting his attention from where he had been gazing outside. He frowned slightly at his friend before turning his head and looking at the teacher.

Grimmjow continued to have his eyebrow raised as he looked at the teen. The boy had bright orange spiked hair, boyish handsome features for what the teacher assumed to be a teen around the age of eighteen or nineteen, and warm brown eyes which were gazing into his with a thoroughly bored expression.

Grimmjow inwardly sighed. He could tell just by looking at this Kurosaki Ichigo kid that he had a difficult student to handle in his class.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, yeah? Or are you slightly deaf in one ear?" He drawled out, firing an equally bored look back at the teen. Two could play at this game.

Kurosaki gave a snorted laugh of annoyance, leaning back in his chair and lacing his arms behind his neck as his eyes continued to lock with the teacher's.

"I heard you the first two times, sensei." The boy replied.

Grimmjow smirked.

"You didn't reply. Normally that's customary here in a classroom, Strawberry." He reprimanded, ticking off the teen's name from the list.

"The name's 'Ichigo'. Normally it's customary in a classroom to get student's names right, unless you have trouble reading. Which I find slightly ironic for an English teacher." Came the quiet reply.

Grimmjow's eye twitched, his head shooting up to glare darkly at the orange haired teen who was leaning back in his chair, a faint smile quirking at the corners of the youth's lips.

The classroom was silent, the students glancing between the two and not daring to speak. The tension could be felt rising in the room.

Grimmjow continued to gaze with narrowed eyes at the teen.

_Oh? You think you're somethin' funny, do ya? _

Grimmjow was known to have a short fuse at the best of times, and it was taking him a great deal of self-control at this point in time to keep from retaliating at that smart-aleck remark. He had a definite problem child here, alright. He considered giving Kurosaki a week's worth of detention right then and there, but he held in the urge as he placed the cap back on his pen, standing up from the desk and heading back towards the blackboard after calling out the remainder of the names on the list, the last student, Sado Yasutora, giving a brief nod of his head when his name was ticked off.

He would see just how smart the kid thought he was when he received that night's homework.

"Piss-poor retorts aside, everyone open up your textbooks. The headmaster wants us to learn Shakespeare, but I think I say fer all of us that that guy's work is boring as shit. So we're gonna start with narrative." Grimmjow spoke up loudly, beginning to write down on the blackboard his notes for the class.

The rustling of paper and chairs shuffling sounded in the classroom as the students made to rule up new pages, copying down the topic and guidelines that their teacher was currently outlining for them.

The lesson began.

* * *

It was only an hour, yet those sixty minutes dragged on for what felt like an eternity.

Grimmjow had encountered his fair share of troublemakers and negligent students in class during his five years of teaching, even having been one of those very same types of students when he himself was in high school, yet never before had he encountered a student quite like Kurosaki Ichigo.

The orange haired boy remained a constant enigma to him throughout the entire lesson.

Grimmjow found that he couldn't exactly articulate the correct group of words to accurately describe the youth sitting next to the window. Throughout the study period, the blue haired teacher had been carefully observing the teen when the class were silently answering questions from the textbook.

The boy was attentive when doing work; even now, his head was bowed and his hand was sliding back and forth across his notebook, his pen scribbling away as he studiously completed his writing task. Yet when the class was called to attention, the boy would go back to gazing out at the window or, to Grimmjow's steadily growing irritation, he would keep a steady glance on Grimmjow himself for an extended period of time. When the blue haired male had lifted his head after reading out a section from his textbook to the class, he had found warm brown eyes staring at him as if assessing him in some fashion.

Grimmjow had simply returned the look, raising a blue eyebrow in expectation that the youth was about to say something, yet the teen had merely raised his own eyebrow in response and folded his arms across his chest.

When questioned if there was anything he needed to say out loud to the class, Kurosaki had only quipped back another of his smart-aleck replies.

Grimmjow sighed faintly as he ran a hand through his messy blue locks. His gaze flickered back over to Kurosaki, who was still leaning over his books and concentrating on his work.

The kid was a tough one to figure out, alright.

Turning his cyan blue gaze towards the clock at the back of the wall, Grimmjow noted that mercifully the lesson was due to end in a little under five minutes. He yawned slightly as he pushed away from the wall he was leaning against, stretching his arms above his head and ignoring the soft sighs of delight that issued from the female students when he arched his back a little in doing so.

He walked over to the teacher's desk, clearing his throat and drawing everyone's attention back to him.

"Ok everyone, you can stop straining yerselves now. Class is almost over, thank _God_. Right, those questions all done? I'm assumin' you all actually know how to write a narrative properly now, yeah? Fairly straightforward, simplest way to put it: introduction, climax and resolution. Or in other words, you introduce the poor little sods you're gonna be torturin', include people who come fuck shit up, and then you get yer happy ending 'cos everyone loves a tear-jerker." Grimmjow continued, grinning as his explanation was met with scoffs and snorts of laughter from the class.

He lifted up a stack of papers from the teacher's desk, taking off the paper clip and passing around a sheet to each student.

"These are your narrative plans. Get 'em filled out tonight, I'll be checking them tomorrow's lesson. The narratives themselves will be due next Monday. So you have the weekend to work on 'em and _yes_, I _am _aware that you may have things planned but honestly I don't give a crap. It's the damn school's fault for makin' the holidays end so quickly. You're not the only one's who're missin' out on their sleep right now, ya know." He continued, passing around the sheets of paper and pausing as he stood next to Kurosaki.

Grimmjow handed the last remaining paper he had to the teen, the orange haired youth gazing once more up at the teacher before taking the paper with a slight scoff.

Grimmjow continued to stand there for a moment, his eyes challenging and silently daring the boy to make a smart remark this time around as the youth looked back up at him with his brown eyed gaze.

The orangette merely held his glance steadily with that of Grimmjow's, making no sign that he was going to comment on anything.

Grinning inwardly in triumph, being one to fully relish in having the last say in matters, Grimmjow nodded and made his way back to the front of the class.

"Alright, get out of here. Class dismissed." He spoke loudly once more, sitting down on the chair and kicking his legs up on the table as the bells blared once more over the speakers. He sighed and rubbed his forehead when the raucous clamour of chairs and voices filled the room, excitable chatter once more ensuing as the students gathered and pooled outside, their loud presence soon fading as they disappeared down the corridor.

Grimmjow let his head tilt back against the chair, gazing up at the ceiling as he ran a hand once more through his untidy mane of blue hair. It was then that he noticed that he wasn't the only one in the classroom.

Lowering his cyan blue gaze to the window, he frowned slightly when he saw Kurosaki Ichigo remaining standing, glancing over the paper in his hand with a look of careful consideration on his features.

Grimmjow sighed, checking his watch before turning his gaze back to the youth.

"Class _is _over, you know…" He pointed out, breaking the silence.

The teen lifted his head, turning to look at the teacher.

"Yeah, I know." He replied, adjusting his satchel over his shoulder before moving forwards to stand in front of the teacher's desk.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, normally that means you _leave_ the class? As in skedaddle … shoo… fuck off? That kind of thing?"

The teen snorted a laugh.

"I can't believe you're a teacher." He mused quietly, his lips twitching with amusement.

Grimmjow scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Me either. Anyway is there some reason why you're bothering me right now, Strawberry?"

Ichigo looked back to the narrative plan.

"When you say on here we can choose a topic of our own choice… there's no limitation to that, is there? We can write about anything we want to?"

Grimmjow blinked.

"That's what it says, doesn't it?" He questioned, his tone amused.

The teen rolled his eyes.

"I know it does, believe it or not I'm actually _not _stupid. I just wanted to make sure that was ok."

Grimmjow leant back a bit more in his chair.

"It's fine by me, Kurosaki. What'd ya have in mind?" He asked.

A faint smile formed on the teen's lips.

"Nothing important. Thanks for that, sensei. See you tomorrow." He answered, placing the paper in his bag and giving a wave as he headed off towards the door.

Grimmjow eyed the teen carefully as he made to exit, wondering vaguely in the back of his mind what Kurosaki could possibly be planning on writing, and also marvelling faintly at the lack of witticism this time around on behalf of the orange haired youth. He shook his head, leaning forwards to gather his papers off the desk.

The blue haired male sighed, rubbing his forehead again.

_He's a definite enigma alright. _

* * *

Resting his hands behind his head, his satchel clenched in his fists as he made his quiet way through the school hallway, Kurosaki Ichigo's brows were creased in deep thought.

His mind was filled with the events that had just occurred in his first English class of the new semester.

He hadn't meant to start off his day in such a shitty manner, by all means. But he couldn't help it. It wasn't something he did intentionally – on the contrary, every morning when he forced himself to wake up, he promised that he would try his best to embrace the new opportunities he was presented with. A new day was a new slate, a chance for him to try his hardest in all that he did so he could finally feel the sense of satisfaction that he was lacking in his life. A sense that he could finally do something which made him feel happy.

He worked the hardest he could in school. He obtained good grades each semester. But no matter what his achievements, he could never escape the harsh cruelty of what was reality.

He sighed heavily, beginning his descent down the stairs and turning the corridor at the end to make his weary way towards his next class.

That morning, he had been feeling particularly disheartened. He had even taken it out on his new teacher, though he had no intention of doing so in the first place.

Sighing again, Ichigo stretched his back a little to relieve some of the strain on his muscles.

He allowed his thoughts to turn towards the blue haired male who would be his new sensei for the rest of the year. His laidback attitude and the careless way he spoke, determined and brash in his opinions and actions, and his rather wild appearance – the markings under his eyes, his unusual choice of hair colour and his casual clothing giving the man an undeniably ruggedly handsome and boisterous air – was certainly an odd combination for what made one of the best English teachers of Karakura High.

In fact, the man could be likened most aptly towards one of the students, instead of one of the members of the teaching staff.

Ichigo allowed a faint smile to quirk on his lips.

He liked this new teacher, and some part of him actually enjoyed the bickering conversations that had made up their introductions to one another during that past hour. For the first time in a long time, Ichigo felt as if he could connect to someone on some degree, even if it was largely through smart retorts.

Absentmindedly reaching into the opened zip of his satchel, Ichigo's fingers brushed against the slip of paper which contained his narrative plan homework task for the night.

He chewed his lip in thought.

_I can write about anything, huh?_

His warm brown eyes slid to glance out one of the windows as he passed them by, his sight taking in the field of grass of the school's oval, and how the rays of golden sunlight reflected off of the crisp greenness of the leaves of trees with an almost poetic finesse.

He turned his head back to face the corridor.

_Thank God for that,_ he thought, a softened smile forming on his lips.

He walked into his next class, his mind filled with gratitude for his new sensei.

He didn't care that the blue haired male obviously had no high expectations for him to succeed in this writing task.

Writing was his passion, and he was determined to prove that to his teacher.

* * *

**A/N: First chapter. How'd I go? :) Feel free to review or PM, telling me what you thought! Unfortunately though due to university **UPDATES WILL BE SLOW**! The absolute minimum will be an update once every 2 weeks, or at the most probably once a month... I'm sorry but life has caught up to me! (also I need to finish writing this thing xD)**

**Hope you like it so far! Thanks for reading and see you next time! :D **


	2. Puzzle Me an Enigma

**A/N: Finally, the second update is here! Thank you so, so much everyone for the lovely reviews on the first chapter! And all of the favourites and follows as well! I didn't think the first chapter would get so far, to be perfectly honest. Thank you again! :D **

**Loco: I couldn't reply to you as you were an anonymous reviewer so I shall reply to you here :) Thank you so much! Yes, unfortunately the updates are slow (real life is a bitch let's be honest) but I am trying to get these chapters out as soon as I can despite this :) Hope you continue to stick around and enjoy this little fic! :D **

* * *

**Chapter 2: Puzzle Me an Enigma **

His hand paused, his arm freezing in its movement as he outstretched his fingers towards the brass doorknob. A sigh fell from his lips, his head bowing.

_That's right… Dad's home tonight_.

Warm brown eyes slid closed in an act of weary acceptance.

Trying to quell the all-too familiar feeling of repulsion which accompanied his thoughts every Thursday evening when he returned home, Kurosaki Ichigo steeled himself and grasped the door handle. His mind already working on his usual planned escape route for the night, walking over the threshold into the front foyer of his house, Ichigo slung his satchel off of his shoulders and stepped out of his shoes. Placing them on the floor by the mat, he continued slowly inside until he reached the kitchen.

Two heads turned, one mousey brown haired and the other black.

Ichigo gave a faint smile.

"Hey Yuzu, Karin." He greeted quietly when his sisters jumped out of the chairs they had been sitting in, running up to him and wrapping their slight arms around his waist. He knelt down so he was eye-height with the two, closing his eyes again and embracing them tightly.

"Onii-chan, I'm glad you're back!" Yuzu giggled happily. Ichigo grinned slightly.

"So am I, Yuzu. I missed you both." He replied. He gave them both a slight squeeze before letting go and standing back up.

"Is dad home?" He asked quietly, gazing into two pairs of brown eyes. The twins' expressions became guarded and sombre as they glanced at each other before turning back to look up at their brother once more.

"He said he'd be home tomorrow night instead. He's staying with _her_." Karin ground out through her teeth.

Ichigo sighed, running a hand through his orange locks.

"I see…" He muttered.

That woman was the cause of half of the troubles that ripped the Kurosaki household apart almost all night, every night. He forced himself to relax and to allow another faint smile to cross his lips, even as his hand clenched by his side - at least it meant that the bastard they had for a father wouldn't be terrorising them for another day, he supposed.

"Have you two had dinner?" He asked, changing the subject.

His sisters nodded.

"There's some left for you in the kitchen, Ichi-nii." Karin spoke up as Ichigo continued on his way past them, rubbing their heads affectionately as he did so.

"I'll grab it later, I need to do my homework first. Thanks, though." The teen replied as he waved to the twins, beginning his ascent up the stairs.

Turning the corridor, he walked down the hallway and paused as he reached the door to his room. Pushing it open, he threw his satchel down onto the bed and settled himself in the chair by the computer desk. He leant back, tilting his head up to gaze at the ceiling.

A heavy sigh passed his lips.

The sky outside was alight with a deepened hue of crimson and vermillion, the clouds beginning their stretch across the surface of the sun and causing shimmers of broken rays to seep through the cracks of greyed white. The breeze flowing through his window was cool and gentle, serving to calm his mind as he leant forwards again, sifting through the contents of his bag.

If only life could be as relaxing and carefree as the reassuring touch of the wind against his cheeks at that moment. Lifting his gaze, he carefully regarded the afternoon sunset.

He pulled out the narrative plan, picking up a pen from his desk and uncapping the lid. Chewing the plastic absentmindedly as he pressed the pen to his lips, he re-read his homework instructions.

A brief flash of gold in his vision caused him to raise his hand to shield his face. A muttered "tch…" passing his lips, Ichigo sat up to draw the curtains over his window to block the blinding glare of the sun as it dipped below the tree line. He caught a parting of cyan blue underneath the clustered formation of clouds.

Despite himself, an amused smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he became reminded of the cyan blue eyes of his new English teacher.

Settling himself back down into his chair, he pressed his pen to the paper.

He knew exactly what he was going to do. With this thought in mind, he wrote down the first words that came to him, his smile still pulling faintly at his lips.

* * *

The sound of the car door being slammed shut rang out over the parking lot, the flashing of headlights and the tell-tale clicking from the handles indicating the locking of the vehicle straight after.

Stuffing his hand holding his keys into his pocket, the other hand holding his textbooks and resting them against his hip as he walked towards the front doors of Karakura High, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez nodded briefly towards another of the school's teaching staff upon entering the building.

He began his casual stroll towards the classroom. His cyan eyes were glazed over in a look of deep concentration, his brows furrowing and his expression pulling into a faint scowl.

He didn't know why he had lost so much sleep over it last night – even this morning when he had eventually willed himself to wake up, his mind was once more assaulted by doubts and the annoying niggling thoughts concerning that Kurosaki Ichigo kid in his English class.

Try as he might, he just couldn't figure the young male out.

_If he was just the usual attention seeker or class kiss-ass then that'd be fine, I'd know how to deal with 'im. I'd give 'im detention for a week and purposely fail his assignments. _

He continued to ponder this thought as he made his way up the stairs.

But Kurosaki Ichigo wasn't the typical shirk-off student. Grimmjow couldn't explain it. The kid was dedicated to his studies, that much he could see when he had observed the youth efficiently working through his notes yesterday morning. Yet when it came to interacting with him, it was almost as if the boy used his witty retorts as a means to create a mask to hide behind. He'd put on a cold air to retreat into some sort of inner self, as if he was afraid of speaking his own thoughts.

Despite his rather lackadaisical approach to life, Grimmjow was actually quite an astute man when it came to understanding one's character. Having spent most of last night going over these thoughts in his brain, he had come to these conclusions rather quickly about the teen, and he was determined to somehow get to the bottom of it.

_I'll see how he goes today. The narrative plans are due. If he didn't do his homework then I can safely assume that there's definitely something going on with him, and I'll try to ask him about it. _

Giving a faint hum of approval at this plan, Grimmjow halted outside of the room marked 1-3B. His eyes continued to remain narrowed in thought he reached out to open the door, stepping inside just as the school bells blared around the corridor to signify the start of class.

* * *

Ichigo heaved a quiet sigh as he turned his gaze back from the window, glancing up at the words being chalked out on the blackboard by his sensei, the teacher's voice ringing out in the silent class as he talked the students through the notes he was supplying.

He was glad that the teacher was so laid-back. The jokes and quips that he welcomed the class with upon entering the room had certainly made to lighten up the monotonous mood that always accompanied the knowledge that this was the first lesson of the morning.

Ichigo had even allowed himself to laugh along quietly with his classmates at the teacher's smirking insults towards Asano Keigo again, the teen having been caught on his phone once more and reprimanded before the lesson had officially started.

Those few moments of welcomed peace had served to calm the dread in Ichigo's mind, even if only for a moment.

Now that the class had resumed silence, he found his mind straying back towards the knowledge that when school ended, he would have to make his way back home.

His father was coming over tonight. The very thought made his hands clench.

Sighing again, Ichigo closed his eyes briefly, willing himself to still his mind. He instead focused on anything else which would hopefully detract from his mental torment, finding his gaze settling on his teacher and quietly observing the way the tall man reached up to write on the board. His movements were fluid and precise, even down to the handwriting donning the blackboard as his hand crossed to and fro across its dusted surface.

Taking in the unruly blue locks of hair, the teal eye markings and the man's clothing hugging his clearly well-toned physique, Ichigo found himself likening the man as having a somewhat feline grace and wildness about his features.

He continued to regard him carefully, wondering who the hell was out of their mind when they employed some guy like this as a teacher.

"You alrigh' there, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo blinked, stirring from his thoughts and observations only to find himself the centre of the class's attention, the teacher having turned around and raised a blue eyebrow towards the youth, the sensei having noticed his eyes trained on him.

Ichigo shifted a little in his seat, giving a faint frown.

He hated being called out in class. He disliked the feeling of being so conspicuous.

"Yeah." He replied simply, his warm brown eyes locking with cyan as the teacher continued to gaze at him. An expression of faint concern was on the blue haired males' features. Ichigo shifted a little in his seat once more.

"You sure? Did you need to go outside for a bit?" The teacher continued, setting his piece of chalk down on the desk and crossing his arms over his chest.

Ichigo shook his head.

"No. Did you?" He answered coolly, raising an eyebrow in return to the look being given to him. A few scattered sniggers rang out throughout the class. A snorted scoff was his response from the teacher, the blue eyed man picking up his chalk again as he turned his back to face the blackboard once more.

"Yeah, yeah, real cute…" The sensei muttered.

Ichigo grinned faintly.

"While we're on the subject, I suppose you can enlighten us by telling everyone what I was just talking about?"

Ichigo frowned slightly again when the teacher had spoken up once more, turning back around and gazing pointedly at the orange haired male, his eyebrow still raised.

Ichigo sighed.

"You were talking about revolutionary English authors and discussing how they used literary techniques to change the modern worlds' perception of classical literature. You also told us to, and I quote-unquote, 'forget about Shakespeare, because his work is a bunch of verbal garbage that even by any other name would still smell as shite'."

The teacher blinked, his eyes widening. The class had also turned their heads once more to gaze back at Ichigo.

"… Fuck. You really _were_ payin' attention…" The sensei murmured quietly, his tone bemused.

Ichigo shrugged.

"I agree with you." He spoke up again, drawing the teacher's attention back to him when the blue haired man was just about to turn back to the blackboard.

If the sensei's expression was shocked before, it was nothing to what was written on his face now.

Cyan blue irises were trained intently on warm brown, the man's features pulled into a look which clearly communicated that he was at a complete loss for words. An odd expression came into his eyes, and Ichigo had the distinct feeling that the teacher was scrutinising him carefully, as if searching his face for some sign that this wasn't another of Ichigo's quips.

"You do?" His rough voice was stunned. Ichigo sighed, leaning forwards in his chair a little. He nodded.

"Sure. I mean he could make a few plays and create half of the modern English vocabulary that we use today, but so much attention is focused on him when his work is hardly anything which sparks true imagination. Writing is all about thoughts and feelings, and Shakespeare's work, to me, is just laughable in terms of that." He explained.

There was complete silence in the room.

Ichigo tried to avoid the gazes of his classmates. He continued to keep his eyes trained on his teacher, gauging the man's reaction.

A faint smile pulled at the corner of the sensei's lips, his eyes softening into a look of approval and something which seemed akin to mild wonder. Ichigo quickly lowered his head, feeling his cheeks heat up under the public scrutiny of the class.

Mercifully, he was spared a response from the teacher as the school bells blared outside in the corridor.

The class stirred, scattered murmurings erupting as students closed their books.

"Alright, lesson's over. Hand me your narrative plans on the way out. Remember, your actual narratives are due on Monday, so get yer asses into gear over the weekend, yeah? Oi, Asano, keep yer fuckin' phone in yer pocket until you're actually _outside_ the class!" The teacher had resumed his normal tone, speaking up loudly and almost having to rise into a near-yell to ensure he would be heard over the ensuing chatter emanating from the class as they moved out of their seats.

Ichigo slowly stood up, reaching into his bag to pull out the piece of paper he had worked on yesterday evening.

Waiting for a group of students ahead of him to clear the doorway, he tried to look anywhere but at the teacher as he handed out his sheet, the sensei taking it when Ichigo passed him by.

The orange haired youth chanced a glance to the taller man, watching as he read the words on the paper that he had just been handed.

A blue eyebrow raised, cyan eyes focused on the plan. Ichigo allowed a small smile to form on his lips as the teacher turned his head to look back at him.

The amusement was clearly evident in the sensei's gaze.

Ichigo raised his hand in a wave, his smile turning into a wide grin as soon as he stepped outside and into the corridor.

* * *

The paper was held loosely in his hand, his gaze once more sweeping over the neatly marked handwriting.

Blue eyes closed, his free hand pressing against his forehead and sweeping some stray locks of hair away. His lips pulled into a faint grin, the teacher giving an amused chuckle.

_The kid really is an enigma._

Sighing quietly and opening his eyes once more, Grimmjow found himself re-reading the small sentence which he had been focusing on for the most part of half an hour now.

It was only one sentence, yet Kurosaki Ichigo's chosen words somehow kept on drawing him in, once more resurfacing the need to somehow form some understanding of just what went on in that boy's head.

_"As imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name."_

Underneath this quote lay a lightly scrawled "_the only thing Shakespeare got right_."

Another amused scoff left Grimmjow's lips.

"Shakespeare, eh?" He murmured quietly to himself, his lips still pulled into a faint smile.

He sighed, leaning back against the couch he was sitting on. He tilted his head to gaze at the far end of the room, blue irises eyeing the billboards and notes posted on the teacher's lounge walls, yet not taking anything in. His thoughts had strayed once more back to that morning's English lesson.

Kurosaki's sudden unexpected admission regarding Shakespeare's work had not only left Grimmjow in complete and utter amazement at how startlingly similar those thoughts were regarding his own views on the matter, but it had also shown that the youth had allowed himself to open up enough to finally emerge from that mask of retorts and witticisms that he hid behind. Even if it was only for a moment, and only about one subject.

Grimmjow could see that the orange haired teen's mind was filled with far more complex thoughts than he cared to let on, his 'problem student' façade being an easy excuse to detract away from this.

His eyes narrowed faintly, his brow creasing in thought.

_Why does he feel like he has to hide? The kid definitely has a brain. It's like he doesn't want to use it. _

He lowered his gaze back to the words scribbled on the youth's narrative plan.

The sound of a door opening, voices pooling into the room and seemingly reverberating around the walls drew his attention back to the front of the teacher's lounge.

"Hey, hey, hey! How's it goin', Jaegerjaquez?"

The blue haired male snorted in amused annoyance, raising his hand and sticking his middle finger up at the blond haired Music teacher, Hirako Shinji, as the man grinned widely at the English sensei in return. He merely waved in response before making his way over.

Letting out a sigh of content as he settled himself down on the opposite couch, Hirako continued to smile his unsettlingly wide grin, displaying his array of teeth as he looked back at the taller man once more.

"Harassing everyone already, Hirako-sensei? Surely it's too early in the morning for that." Came a smooth voice from behind the two.

The pair lifted their heads to find the shoulder length pink haired, fair skinned form of the Biology teacher, Szayelaporro Granz, walking forwards to seat himself down on the couch next to Grimmjow.

Hirako snorted a laugh, shrugging.

"Who cares? It's not like there's anything better to do in the mornings." He replied, waving the comment off.

Scoffs of amusement fell from the other two's lips.

"You're in here early this morning, Grimmjow. Did you skip class again?" Szayel spoke up, turning his head to gaze at the man in question, his bespectacled amber eyes alight with amusement. Grimmjow snorted a laugh, shaking his head.

"Nah, not this time." He responded, grinning.

He received two chuckles from his friends in response.

More raucous noise issued from the doorway as the remainder of the teaching staff entered. The two men sitting with him fell into conversation.

Grimmjow leant down to pick up the cup of coffee he had on the table, taking a sip of the warm beverage before narrowing his eyes once more in thought.

"Hey… did any of you ever teach a kid called Kurosaki Ichigo?" His rough-edged voice was quiet as he raised his gaze, speaking up suddenly after a moment of silence.

Hirako and Szayel turned their heads to gaze back at him, their eyebrows raised in slight confusion. The Music teacher hummed quietly, tapping his index finger against his chin.

"Is that the orange haired kid?" He asked, his grey eyes meeting blue. He received a nod in response.

Hirako shrugged.

"Not actually taught him, no. I've seen 'im around though. Seems like a nice enough kid." He replied, folding his arms behind his head.

Grimmjow turned to look at the pink haired man beside him.

"He was in my Biology class last semester." Szayel answered, chewing his bottom lip slightly in thought. "He's a good student. Very attentive."

Grimmjow gave a faint murmur of agreement.

"What were his grades like?" He asked, leaning back against the couch more.

The other two exchanged brief glances of confusion.

"Above average, for the most part. A lot of B's and A's. He's a very intelligent young man." Szayel continued. He raised an eyebrow in a questioning look. "Why do you want to know?"

Grimmjow sighed, running a hand through his unruly locks. He wasn't entirely sure of that himself.

"I'm havin' some trouble gettin' through to him. One minute we're bickering in class, the next we're having an actual conversation. He has a lot of things going on in his mind. I just wanna find out as much as I can so I can find out how to help him." Grimmjow admitted quietly.

Two pairs of eyes were trained on him intently.

"It's only the second day of term, Grimm..." Hirako blinked, his eyebrow raising further. Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

"Didn't think you could count, Hirako. That's a mighty fine achievement of yours you've got goin' there." The English teacher replied coolly. Szayel scoffed a laugh from where he was sitting, the Biology teacher leaning against the couch pillow and clearly enjoying where this light-hearted argument was headed. Hirako rolled his eyes, shifting forwards and punching Grimmjow on the arm, the blue haired man grinning as he batted the blond's hand away.

"Shut up, asshole. All I'm saying is that it's a little too early to start worryin' about things, isn't it?" The Music sensei continued, ignoring the insult directed towards him. Grimmjow sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

"Probably." Was all he replied with. Seeing that he wasn't going to get any further response than that, Hirako scratched his chin absentmindedly, his grey eyes thoughtful. Presently he spoke up again.

"Well what about Ukitake? He's the counsellor… surely he'd have some info for ya?" He suggested.

Grimmjow rested his chin on his palm, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"I don't think he's the type of kid to go see a counsellor somehow…" He muttered faintly, his blue eyes focused on the window and gazing outside, deep in thought.

"If that's the case, then it's a possibility there's some issues at home with his family. You can leave him to sort it out by himself if he doesn't want help, but if you're so worried by this maybe try getting him to talk about it?" Szayel ran a hand through his locks, brushing some strands of pink hair past his cheek as he did so, gazing at Grimmjow expectantly as he finished speaking.

Grimmjow gave a faint grunt of agreement, finishing off his coffee.

"Yeah... I know, I know… I was thinking I'd probably have to do something like that... thanks, Granz."

The Biology teacher gave a satisfied smile in response, raising his own coffee cup to his lips and taking a sip.

Grimmjow found himself once more lost in his inner mind as his gaze returned to the window, observing the branches of trees swaying in the breeze which had picked up outside. Clouds had begun to form in the distance.

Mulling over his friend's words in his head, he sighed quietly. He decided that he would keep Kurosaki behind after next class so he could take the opportunity to speak to the kid.

He lowered his head back to the narrative plan.

He folded it up, placing it in his pocket.

* * *

"Ichigo!"

The call of his name from somewhere behind him made the orange haired teen pause in his steps. Frowning slightly in confusion, he turned to find the petite form of Kuchiki Rukia racing up to him, her hand raised in a wave.

Ichigo allowed a smile to form on his lips, waving his hand in return as she drew up beside him, panting slightly.

"It's about time you stopped, I've been trying to catch up to you for about ten minutes now." The small woman gasped faintly, bending over to rest her hands against her knees in some effort to get her breath back.

"Sorry about that, Rukia. I guess I wasn't paying attention." Ichigo gave an apologetic grimace.

Rukia snorted a laugh as she drew herself back up.

"Obviously." She scoffed.

Ichigo managed a faint chuckle.

He continued forwards, Rukia matching his pace as she adjusted her bag on her shoulders.

"Are you feeling ok, Ichigo?"

The orangette's brows drew together in confusion as he looked back down at the girl.

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

Rukia glanced back up at him.

"I don't know… you were pretty weird in class today. Well, you're weird in class _every _day… but that was the first time in these past two days you've managed to talk to Jaegerjaquez-sensei without him looking like he was going to drop a detention over your head."

Ichigo blinked, closing his brown eyes momentarily as he turned to gaze back at the street in front of him. He gave a quiet sigh.

"Yeah… I guess it was." He murmured.

Rukia raised an eyebrow.

"Care to spill?"

Ichigo sighed again, strands of orange locks brushing past his forehead as the breeze picked up in the afternoon sunlit street. He gazed up at the golden-tinged sky.

"It's not important." He answered simply.

Rukia rolled her eyes, sighing heavily and making to punch her friend on the shoulder as she strode forwards, raising her hand in a wave of goodbye.

"Fine, be like that and brood. Have a good weekend, Ichigo. I'll see you on Monday." She called out, her figure disappearing around the next street corner.

Ichigo blinked again, his brown eyes gazing with mild confusion at the sudden farewell he had received. He stopped walking. Letting out a heavy groan, he found the cause of Rukia's parting. He was standing outside of his home, the painted white _Kurosaki Clinic _above the front door drawing out once more the feeling of dread which he had desperately been trying to suppress for the most part of the day.

_He's here tonight. That means she'll be here_.

Clenching his fist, Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he made his sluggish way forwards, pulling open the front door and moving inside. Two pairs of shoes which he recognised belonged to his sisters were already placed down on the mat.

Letting out a faint sigh of relief, Ichigo knew that he could relax at least for a little while longer, seeing as his father had still not arrived. Slipping out of his school shoes he hoisted his bag off of his shoulder.

"Yuzu? Karin?" He called out, glancing around the immaculate lounge room and roomy kitchen, seeking some sight of his siblings.

A muffled "welcome back, Onii-chan!" from the second floor alerted Ichigo that Yuzu was in her room. He grinned, reaching out to pick up an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter as he began making his way over to the stairs.

He arrived on the second floor landing, turning left and knocking on his sisters' room. Poking his head through when the door opened, he received two waves from his siblings inside. They were doing their homework.

"Did you have a good day at school, Ichi-nii?" Karin asked, raising her head from her work.

Ichigo nodded, smiling faintly.

"Yeah, did you?"

He received two happy nods in response.

Satisfied with this, he moved away from the doorframe.

"I'll be in my room if you need anything." He spoke, closing the door as he walked back along the length of the corridor, reaching his bedroom.

Taking a bite of the crisp apple, he turned the doorknob and settled himself down onto his bed, sighing as he chewed his food. He gazed unseeingly up at the ceiling.

Trying to settle his turbulent mind to allow himself some moments of rest before the evening came, he willed himself to calm down. He closed his eyes, silently relishing in the cool caress of the breeze from the open window against his warm skin.

His thoughts turned towards that morning's English lesson yet again. Vaguely pondering at what his English teacher's thoughts were upon receiving his narrative plan, Ichigo couldn't help the faint smile that drew over his lips.

With this rather amusing thought settling at the front of his mind, Ichigo's head fell to the side against his pillow.

Within moments, he had fallen asleep.

* * *

The faint sound of a car's engine stalling outside rumbled from down below.

Doors opening and slamming shut accompanied two voices, one masculine, the other feminine.

Keys could be heard fitting the door lock, the handle turning moments later.

The door opened, two figures stumbling inside, laughing raucously.

From his room, Ichigo's hands clenched atop his computer desk. He subconsciously grit his teeth, his features creasing into a look of anger.

_How could he?_ He found himself viciously thinking for not the first time since that day five months ago.

A loud call of his sisters' names emanated from the first floor, Ichigo hearing the next door along the corridor opening and footsteps making their way across the hall outside.

Ichigo bit his lip, counting down the seconds.

Sure enough, he did not have to wait long.

"ICHIGO! GET DOWN HERE, NOW!"

The orange haired youth felt his temple throb, his knuckles turning white against his skin from his clenched hands as he slowly rose from his chair.

Willing himself to keep his rage in check, he stuffed his notepad and a spare pen inside his pocket. He knew he would be needing them.

Each step was slow and deliberate as he stomped out of his room, his brown eyes hard. Below, he saw movement.

Taking his time down the stairs he halted halfway on the last step. The muscles in his jaw tightened.

A middle-aged man with greying black hair had his back facing him. He was dressed in a formal suit, its once clean-pressed fabric now rumpled and dishevelled. Ichigo could smell the rancid scent of alcohol, his father obviously having gone drinking that night.

Beside him, her slurred voice trilling over Yuzu and Karin, was that woman who was the cause of everything bad that had since occurred in Ichigo's life for these past five months.

Her strawberry-blonde waves of hair cascaded over her back, her wide eyes an ice blue which were caked over with heavy black eye makeup. Her skimpy red dress hung off of her shoulders, doing nothing to support her extensive bust. She wavered on her feet, her ankles rolling in her heels as she giggled, clasping onto his father's arm in an effort to steady herself in her drunken stupor.

Ichigo felt bile rise in his throat at the scene – barely able to keep his rage in check, he stepped onto the landing and brushed past, not even sparing the two a moment's glance back.

This… _this _was his father's replacement for his mother?

Ichigo's teeth clenched.

Pathetic.

_She is and will _never_ be anything like mum. _

He sneered as a hand reached out and roughly grabbed him on the shoulder. Ichigo tried not to gag as the foul scent of scotch and whiskey filled his nose.

"Oi, Ichigo… the hell d'ya think you're goin'?" Ichigo's father, Kurosaki Isshin, blurted out as he wheeled Ichigo around to look at him. The man's brown eyes were bloodshot, and though for the most part unfocused, still surprisingly attentive.

Ichigo steeled himself, pushing his father's hand away.

"Out." He replied simply.

His father snorted a laugh.

"We jus' got home, the least you could do's greet us. I din't raise you up to be 'n ungrateful little brat, boy." His father continued, his eyes darkening.

Ichigo bit out a sarcastic laugh, his eyebrow raising.

"No, you sure as hell didn't. Until you met that bimbo over there." Ichigo retorted sharply.

The woman hanging off of Isshin's arm swayed a little, a hiccup falling from her lips as she rubbed her head against the crook of Isshin's neck.

"Baby… 'M tired… wha's goin' on?" She murmured, her voice still heavily slurred. She blinked, her eyes glazed in her tipsy state.

Isshin shoved her away briefly, making the woman stumble and grip the countertop, a surprised and drunken giggle leaving her mouth as she plunked down unsteadily onto the chair nearby.

"What's wrong with Rangiku?" Isshin snapped, his voice a low growl and surprisingly clear for someone who had evidently had far too much to drink.

Ichigo's gaze was hard.

They had this conversation every single time.

"You _know_ what." He hissed, his arms crossing over his chest. "Mum's dead, dad. She died five months ago. You shack up with this whore and you expect her to somehow fill that hole in your heart? Can't you see what you're doing to this family?! Yuzu and Karin can't even look at her, they don't know the meaning of the word 'mother' anymore! You two don't even come home! We're left to fend for ourselves here when we're supposed to be a family, dad! Masaki was a beautiful, gentle and kind-hearted person who would _never _want to see her kids treated like this, and if you think you can just—"

Ichigo's angered outburst, his voice steadily rising into a yell over the course of his sentence, was cut off by his father who had slammed his fist down onto the table.

Isshin's eyes and face were alight with wrath.

"Don't you _EVER _talk to your father like that, boy!" He yelled, his tone lethal. He rounded on Ichigo, grabbing the youth's collar by the fist and pressing his face in so close to the teens' Ichigo had begun to gag from the man's fetid alcohol-laced breath. "You don't know fucking shit, you ungrateful bastard! You don't know the hell I've been through. Don't you _EVER _say Masaki's name to me, EVER AGAIN!"

Ichigo's eyes were burning with angered tears as he yanked his father's hand away, shoving the man back with a push of his elbow.

"AND WHY NOT? YOU'RE FALLING APART, DAD! WE ALL LOVED MUM! _YOU_ LOVED HER! SO WHAT DO YOU DO THE SECOND SHE DIED? YOU RUIN HER MEMORY AND EVERYTHING THAT SHE WAS! IF YOU THINK THAT… THAT WOMAN… IS SOME SORT OF REPLACEMENT FOR HER, YOU ARE SADLY FUCKING MISTAKEN!" Ichigo was panting heavily, his voice having risen into a scream.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Rangiku had paused from tilting her hand towards a bottle of sake which had been left on the counter.

Yuzu and Karin had quickly ducked into the lounge room, their eyes wide as they gazed with shock at their normally level-headed brother's outburst.

He and their father were always yelling at each other like this, but it had never been this bad before.

Kurosaki Isshin stood before his son, his eyes widened into an expression which clearly communicated a mix of both shock and livid rage perfectly melded into one. His bottom lip was quavering. His limbs were trembling.

Ichigo continued to pant heavily, his body shuddering with white-hot anger.

"Get out."

Isshin's voice was a hoarse whisper, his head bowed.

Ichigo sneered.

"I was planning to." He snarled back as he took off, his steps quickening into lengthened strides as he threw the front door open, slamming it shut behind him.

He grit his teeth, his mind raging as he burst into a sprint, his legs pumping quickly as he tore down the street, the last rays of the afternoon sun dipping below the tree line.

He already knew where he was going.

His eyes brimmed with warm tears.

He continued on, the wind whipping mercilessly at his back.

He needed to get out. He needed to escape.

Almost knocking over two women who had turned the sidewalk, he didn't even spare a quick apology as he raced on and on, his lungs burning from the need to fill with more oxygen.

Running faster, the last mile stretched ahead of him. Only when the wide green fields of the park before him opened out before the road did he think of slowing down his pace.

Gasping heavily for breath he stumbled over towards a patch of grass underneath a withered oak tree.

It was his special spot, the one place he could seek to find solitude during these past five months of hell.

He threw himself down, ripping out the notepad and pen he had stuffed into his pockets and moving to rub his arm over his eyes, dampening his tears on his shirt sleeve.

He tilted his head back against the gnarled bark of the tree, his watered brown eyes closing as he took in gasps of air, willing his heart to cease its fevered pounding.

A few moments went by, the silence only broken by his hitched gasps. Ichigo sighed heavily, his chest heaving as he lowered his head, uncapping the pen lid and placing his pen to his notepaper.

Dabbing furiously at the last remaining tears at the corners of his eyes, he slowly raised his gaze.

Not for the first time had Ichigo found himself in this position – running away from home to come to the park. Writing was his means of escape, his way of trying to forget about what his father had done to his family.

It was where he could shed tears in private, and allow himself to become swept away by his mind as imagination took hold.

Normally Ichigo would draw upon the natural elements around him to stimulate his thought process – the gentle swaying of the branches of the oak above him in the cool evening breeze; the glorious vermillion sunset painting the sky a thousand stories of light, each wisp of cloud capturing the golden caress in an intimate embrace; civilisation and people moving to and fro, always striving for something which they had yet to know; couples walking with dogs, children playing, families… everything that Ichigo couldn't have, everything he couldn't be a part of he drew upon for his inspiration.

He wrote the life which he wish he had. It was all he had known for these past five months.

Drawing his hand across his page, he pressed the inked tip of the pen to the lined surface.

He wrote his title for his narrative.

With only the silence around him, here in the late evening sunset of the park, he drew upon his latest inspiration and began to write.


	3. Melting the Ice

**A/N: My continued thanks to all those who reviewed, favourited and followed! Thank you so, so much! **

**Loco: Awwww my gaawwd *cries* thank you so much for your lovely review! I'm so very glad you like this! It also makes me very happy at your comments of how I portrayed Ichigo :D I will definitely be continuing this, don't worry, and I hope you realise that quote made me smile and feel so much better :) Thank you again! :D**

**To the guest reviewer from chapter 2: Updates will come as soon as I get the time to do so :) Currently this story has a new chapter out once every two weeks :) This schedule may or may not change depending on how busy my workload gets, but I'll post a notice letting everyone know if I need to drastically cut back on how often I update. **

* * *

**Chapter 3: Melting the Ice**

"Man, I'm beat. It's about time we finished already."

Two murmurs of agreement were Hirako Shinji's response, the blond haired Music teacher stretching his arms above his head as he paused outside, turning around to wait for the English and Biology teachers to catch up to him.

Grimmjow let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he fished around in his jeans pocket for his keys. Alongside him, Szayel had found his car keys from his coat pocket and was already swinging them around in his hand, the metal jingling as he did so.

"You guys got any plans for the weekend?" Hirako asked as they drew up alongside him, the three continuing on their way to the staff car park.

"Nothing exciting. Let's see, I have marking, marking, marking, and… oh yes, marking." Szayel sighed, rolling his amber eyes and pushing his glasses up with his free hand.

Grimmjow and Hirako snorted a laugh.

"Freaking workaholic. You need to learn to loosen up a bit more." Hirako scoffed, grinning toothily.

Szayel raised a fine eyebrow at the blond.

"And you should learn to actually begin taking an interest in your class's work, Hirako. God knows how many students you passed last semester when they didn't even bother submitting their assignments." The pink haired male reprimanded.

Hirako's mouth pulled into a scowl, the blond slouching his shoulders and kicking some loose gravel on the pavement in front of him.

"Alright that's enough, ladies." Grimmjow spoke loudly, his lips pulling into a grin.

Szayel and Hirako scoffed.

"What about you, Jaegerjaquez? Got anything special planned?"

The blue haired man grunted faintly in response to the blond, having found his keys and sighing as he ran a hand through his tousled blue locks. His cyan eyes were gazing ahead of him, spying his car in the distance. He fell silent for a moment, lost in thought.

He had no special plans for the upcoming two days, but the conversation in the staff room that morning continued to burn brightly in his mind.

"Nah, not really." He murmured quietly.

Hirako nodded.

"You guys wanna come down to the bar tonight? There's a new one that opened up around the corner from town. Somethin' called 'Visored Blue'. Could be worth a try."

Szayel shook his head.

"No, afraid not Hirako. I promised Yylfordt I'd pick him up from basketball tonight. Lazy-ass brother of mine, I swear…" He muttered, sighing in agitation.

Grimmjow and Hirako grinned their amusement.

"See you two. Enjoy your evenings." Szayel called out, stopping by his car as the other two men continued on. They waved in response, nodding back before heading on their way and weaving through the rows of vehicles which were parked around them.

"So just you and me then, Jaegerjaquez?" Hirako questioned.

Grimmjow considered this for a moment.

On the one hand, a night out would certainly be welcomed, seeing as the beginning of the school term after four weeks of holidays was always quite stressful. But on the other hand a night out with Hirako Shinji did far less to calm the mind than it did to in fact make it worse. The man was far too lively for his own good, especially when he had consumed a few drinks.

"Think I'll pass on that one. Sorry Hirako." Grimmjow grimaced slightly, remembering only far too well the last time he had spent the night out drinking with his friend. Hirako had to be dragged to the local police station on numerous charges of boisterous activity towards the club patrons. And also something involving a rather embarrassing incident with a pole.

Hirako's mouth fell open into a comical expression of disbelief.

"The hell's yer problem? First Granz, now you! Why don't you wanna come out with me? I'm the king of partying!" He whined, throwing his hands up in dismay.

Grimmjow snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, somethin' like that…" He muttered under his breath.

Hirako raised an eyebrow.

"What was that?"

"Nothin'. See ya on Monday." Grimmjow replied quickly, raising his hand in a wave as he reached his car, unlocking it and sliding himself into the driver's seat.

He grinned widely, barking a laugh at Hirako's bewildered expression when the blue haired man had revved up the engine, driving past the Music teacher and leaving the blond by himself in the parking lot.

Grimmjow let loose a satisfied sigh, running a hand through his messy blue locks once more as he wound the window down, thoroughly enjoying the feel of the cool breeze streaming past his face as he pressed his foot on the accelerator – tearing along the street moments later and making his way for home.

* * *

The loud rumbling of the engine ceased to a grumbling purr of a noise, his foot easing on the brake and drawing his car to a still.

Letting out a faint irate mutter of discontent, Grimmjow sighed and reached down, pulling the gear-lever into neutral before lifting his hands up to thread behind his head, lacing his fingers against the back of his neck.

He glanced ahead of him, seeing that there were road works in the near-distance. The line of traffic he was stuck behind stretched some ways ahead as figures wearing neon orange weaved to and fro between the cars.

It was going to take him a while to get home if the line-up ahead of him was anything to go by.

"Tch… just my fuckin' luck…" He grunted faintly to himself.

He glanced down towards the radio in the car, reaching down to turn the dial to seek a new station to listen to. Annoyed with the lack of anything remotely interesting and to suit his tastes, he gave up moments later and emitted a huff of a sigh, turning the music off completely and allowing the purr of the engine to otherwise fill the silence around him.

Five minutes passed by, the traffic line before him not seeming to move more than a few centimetres as the workers continued their constructions along the sidewalk.

His brow twitching in annoyance, his impatience finally getting the better of him, Grimmjow sighed heavily and switched on the indicator. Seeing that no one was in the next lane over, he quickly manoeuvred his car away from the build-up.

Now given some room to move, he put his foot down and crossed over into the other lane, seeking another route home. Though it would take him longer, the traffic along the boulevard near the city park would surely be much better than it was here currently.

Grinning widely as he cut in front of a rather displeased looking middle-aged woman the moment he turned the corner, he simply ignored the irritated blaring of the car horn as he sped down the open road.

He felt like he could afford himself a moment to loosen up and create some mild havoc – spending all day in that stuffy classroom had done enough to dampen his wild spirit. He relished in the wind whipping across his face, strands of his tousled blue locks dancing in front of his vision as he picked up speed.

Presently, he slowed down as he reached the end of the lengthy street, taking the left turn and continuing along the tree-lined boulevard. It was late afternoon, the sunset reflecting brilliant hues of orange and yellow off of apartment and office windows.

Along the sides of the road, cafés were open, patrons already sitting outside and enjoying early dinners, observing the cars that passed them by.

The traffic was sparse, and Grimmjow mentally thanked whatever god was listening for that. He wanted nothing better than to go home already - he had enough on his mind.

Passing by the large green fields of Karakura Park, his eyes glanced sidewards to take in the gnarled oak tree which formed the central landscape of the hilly valley situated in the exact centre of the town.

He vaguely registered a figure of someone sitting beneath the tree in the darkened shade its boughs provided.

He was just about to turn his head back to the road when a flash of vibrant orange crossed his vision.

Eyes widening, he span his head back to closely investigate the figure of the person sitting alone underneath the tree.

There was no doubt about it – the spiked strands of hair, its unruly colour unmistakeable even from this distance…

_Kurosaki? What's he doin' here so late in the afternoon?_

His brows pulling together in thought, Grimmjow frowned slightly as he stared once more back at the road ahead of him.

A few moments of silence went by.

Quickly turning his hands on the wheel, Grimmjow swerved to a gentle roll towards the garden car park.

Finding a free space, he stalled his car and stepped out.

* * *

Ichigo sighed softly as he leant his head back against the tree trunk once more. He closed his eyes, running his hands over his face.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting out here – it may have been one hour or five. His warm brown eyes opening to gaze upon a bird which settled itself down on the grass some few feet away, he observed with mild intrigue as it flapped its wings, alighting briefly for only a mere moment before taking off yet again.

His hand gripped his pen loosely, tapping the lid against the notebook page he had been writing on.

His narrative was almost complete.

Quickly flipping through the seven filled pages, the orange haired teen bit his lip in thought.

_I think that's as good as it'll get_, he thought to himself.

He was tired, and the cool chill of the evening air was now settling around him. Yet he had no desire to return home. Not if his father was there.

He bit back the ugly wave of repulsion which clawed through his chest once more as his mind settled unwillingly back to earlier that afternoon, before he had run away.

He focused on his breathing, taking slow, steady breaths. The gust of wind breezing through his hair helped to steady the disquiet in his mind as he closed his eyes yet again. He curled his arms around his legs, drawing them up to rest his chin against his kneecaps.

How he wanted to forget about it all and blissfully fade away to a simple nothing, just like the soothing wind through the trees.

The leaves rustled wistfully, accompanied by the soft crunching of grass under foot from nearby.

Ichigo sighed quietly again, wrapping his arms tighter around his lithe form.

_Mum… what would you do if you were alive right now?_

"Oi, Kurosaki… what're you doin' out here?"

Ichigo blinked, his head shooting up as the sudden call of that familiar rough-edged voice filled his ears.

He turned his gaze to the left to see none other than the cyan blue eyed and tousled blue haired form of his English teacher walking up to him, his hands in his pockets and his posture slouched as he made his way over.

Ichigo found himself momentarily dumbstruck, at a loss for words as the taller male drew up beside him, looking down at the teen with mild concern on his features.

"Sensei…" Ichigo mumbled out. He was confused – what the hell was his teacher doing here?

The taller man scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I _do_ have a name ya know. Might as well use it…" He muttered.

Ichigo found himself getting pulled out of his stunned reverie, and scoffing in return, he allowed a faint grin to form on his lips as he turned his gaze back to the fields of grass before them.

Despite himself, the unexpected company of his teacher wasn't entirely unwelcomed.

"You should take your own advice then, Jaegerjaquez. I have a name too." He murmured.

A snorted laugh fell from the sensei's lips.

"Oi, don't go pushin' it." The teacher grinned.

Ichigo's smile grew wider and he couldn't help the chuckle that left his mouth in response.

"You mind if I sit down with ya?"

The orange haired youth shook his head, eyeing the man out of the corner of his eyes as the taller male let out a quiet sigh, moving to sit down beside the teen with his back resting against the oak tree. His head tilted back against the gnarled surface, his legs stretching out before him as he rested an arm over his kneecap.

Ichigo smiled faintly, he too leaning his head back against the bark.

A quiet silence fell over the pair for a moment.

"So what _are_ you doing out here?"

Ichigo turned his head, gazing into the blue eyes of his teacher as the man fixed his questioning gaze on the youth, an eyebrow raised.

"I was writing." Ichigo answered, shrugging.

An amused smile pulled at the corners of the teacher's lips.

"Writing?" He repeated.

Ichigo nodded.

"Yeah, the thing you do when you press pen to paper?" He teased, raising an eyebrow in return to the look being given to him. The older man let loose a brief bark of laughter.

"You're so lucky you're not in class right now, Kurosaki…"

Ichigo laughed, unable to resist cracking a grin.

"I was writing my narrative…" He continued, his voice trailing off quietly as he gazed back down to the book in his hands. Grimmjow's brows rose in faint disbelief.

"Already? I know I said they were due on Monday, but you have the whole weekend to work on it." He pointed out, his tone amused and mildly taken aback.

Ichigo nodded.

"I know…" He whispered.

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed.

"You alright, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine."

Grimmjow continued to gaze expectantly at the boy. A moment of silence passed.

"Writing is… a good way for me to escape. I love it. It… helps to vent unwanted feelings, you know?" The youth continued, gazing unblinkingly out at the steadying descent of the sun behind the tree line.

Grimmjow shifted a little so his full attention was directed on the youth. His eyes continued to narrow.

"Yeah… I know." He replied, his tone quiet. He waited for the boy to continue.

Ichigo turned to face him, a faint smile crossing his lips at the expression on his teacher's face. Grimmjow saw a faint clouded look of hurt in the kid's warm brown eyes.

"If you don't mind me asking… what happened?" He inquired, seeing that he wasn't going to get a response.

Ichigo fell silent.

"Nothing important." He whispered eventually.

Grimmjow allowed a faint sigh to fall from his lips. He knew he shouldn't push the boy into answering him. If Kurosaki wanted to tell him, he would do so in his own time.

He nodded.

"Alright, I'll let it go. But I can see that there's a lot yer not tellin' me, Kurosaki. Even in class. I just want you to know that if you do feel like sayin' somethin', I'll be willing to listen. I don't mean to sound all cheesy and shit, but I think that a good talk is probably something you need going by the way you act in class. So... if you want to... go right ahead." He continued.

A small smile of gratitude flickered at the corners of Ichigo's mouth. He nodded faintly.

"Yeah… thanks." He murmured.

Grimmjow nodded, making to stand up.

"I'll see ya on Monday, Kurosaki." He took his hand out of his pocket to wave at the orange haired teen.

He received a small nod in response.

Turning his back, the teacher took a step forwards and was just about to head off back to his car when he was stopped by the quiet voice behind him.

"It was my mother…"

Grimmjow paused, turning around to gaze at the teen. Kurosaki was gazing off towards the city skyscrapers in the near-distance, his warm brown eyes filled with an echoing sadness. The teacher walked back over to the youth, resuming his seat next to him. He waited for the boy to continue speaking.

Ichigo gave a shuddering sigh, bowing his head as he resumed his words.

"She… died five months ago. She was killed in a car accident on her way back home from work. We were really torn up about it… we loved her. Dad, my sisters, and me. She was the sort of world that the whole family revolved around, you know?" Ichigo gave a faint quivering laugh, his eyes glazing over with the fond memory.

Grimmjow remained silent.

Ichigo paused yet again, taking another deep breath. Presently he spoke up once more, his gaze lifting to watch the last trails of sunlight in the distance. His voice was quiet, detached, as if he wasn't speaking to his teacher.

"My sisters took a while getting over the shock. They still miss her… we all do. I tried my best to look after them. But there are still nights when they cry about it. I try to comfort them. They look up to me, and I need to look after them. It's my job. I love my sisters and I need to keep them strong. But… dad took it the hardest."

There was another pause.

"The day after she died, we had her funeral. Dad continued to beat himself up over it – he turned to drinking as a means to help him forget about what happened. Masaki was everything to him. In fact, he probably loved her more than he cared for his own kids. One night, he got really drunk and went out to town. He… hooked up with a stripper at a dance club."

Ichigo's voice was shaking slightly, his hands clenching tightly over his knees. Grimmjow could see the pain that was echoing in those warm brown eyes, and he felt his stomach clench tightly in response.

This kid… he was beginning to see why Ichigo continually drew into himself during class. He was suffering badly.

"He kept on seeing her?" Grimmjow guessed, his voice quiet.

Ichigo sighed, nodding.

"Some whore called Matsumoto Rangiku. There's no way those two could even love each other. Dad kept on going out with her as a means to somehow fill that hole that mum left when she died. He's ruining himself. Every night since then, he goes out with that woman and gets piss-drunk. He doesn't even stay at home anymore. He practically lives in that bar. The only time Yuzu, Karin and I see him is when he comes home mostly Thursday nights, and even then it's to yell at us while he's off his head from drugs and alcohol…" Ichigo's voice cracked a little toward the end of his sentence.

He sniffed, bringing his arm up to wipe his eyes hastily on his shirt sleeve.

"We always fight. _Always_. Our family isn't even a family anymore. He gets violent and lashes out. Mostly its verbal but… sometimes… it's physical."

Grimmjow sat up straighter, setting his gaze intently on the youth.

"Ichigo, you don't have to continue…" He said quickly, seeing that the kid was on the verge of tears again. The teen shook his head, smiling weakly.

"No, it… it's ok… it's good to finally tell someone." He gave a barely audible chuckle, leaning his head back against the tree trunk before moving a hand to roll up his sleeve.

Grimmjow's eyes widened and a sharp intake of breath left his lips when he saw the long, dark cut along the teen's bicep. The bruise around it was a lightened purple, beginning to fade into a grey green.

"Shit… when the hell did that happen?!" The blue haired man exclaimed, his head lifting back up to stare, horrified, into pained brown eyes.

"Last week…" Ichigo muttered faintly, pulling his sleeve back down. He took another deep breath. "I'm just glad my sisters never get hurt…"

Grimmjow's mind was reeling. The only thing that registered in his thoughts was horror and anger for what this kid had to put up with at home. This boy's father… he was a bastard – some kind of sick, twisted fuck.

"Have you tried to go to a family counsellor? Find another place to live? Shit, Ichi, that's domestic abuse!"

Ichigo fixed his brown eyes on cyan blue.

"Where would that leave my sisters?" He asked quietly. Grimmjow blinked.

Sighing, Ichigo continued.

"They would separate us. I promised Yuzu and Karin I would look after them. I'll do whatever I can to make sure that they don't suffer like I did."

Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, a desperate look coming into his eyes.

"I get that, but… shit! No one should have to put up with that!"

Ichigo murmured in faint agreement.

"I run away from him. From her…" He continued. "Every night he comes home, we yell. I escape and come to the park here. I take my notepad with me so I can sit and write. It's the only thing that'll help me to calm down. Writing takes my mind off of all the shit that goes on in my life… that's why I love it so much. I can sit back and imagine the life I wish I had, if mum was still alive and with us. I'm… actually really glad you're here with me right now, Grimmjow…"

The blue haired man's eyes were filled with a deep concern.

Ichigo turned his head so he could lock his eyes once more with cyan orbs. He gave a faint smile.

"It feels good to finally get this off of my chest, you know? You're the only one I've ever spoken to about all this. I… just wanted to say thank you… for listening. I've also been meaning to apologise for being such an asshole to you in class. Now's a good time to say it, yeah?"

Despite himself Grimmjow gave a faint chuckle, his lips quirking into slight smile.

"Yeah… at least you apologised, ya smartass…"

Ichigo gave a laugh.

Grimmjow sighed, his gaze turning sombre.

"I really am sorry to hear about all that, Ichi…" He murmured. Ichigo shrugged his shoulders, huffing a faint sigh of agreement.

"Yeah… "

Grimmjow leant his head back against the tree trunk once more. He turned to gaze back at the teen's troubled features.

"I _am _gonna help you, you know that right?"

Ichigo didn't respond, but a faint smile twitched at the corners of his lips. He gave a barely visible nod of his head.

"Thank you…" He whispered.

The blue haired man nodded, making to sit up again. Ichigo's eyes were questioning as the taller man stood in front of him, extending his hand.

The youth gazed at the hand offered to him, the confusion evident all over his face when he raised brown eyes back to blue.

"Come on, it's gettin' really late and yer probably gonna catch hypothermia out here or somethin'. It's fuckin' freezing. You weren't planning on going back home tonight, were ya?"

Ichigo's brows furrowed faintly as he took the hand reached out to his own, wrapping his cold fingers around the welcoming warmth of the other man's.

He was hoisted up from the ground and he moved to dust himself off.

"No… why?" He replied.

Grimmjow shrugged, sticking his hands into his pockets and beginning to walk away, Ichigo quickening his steps to keep up with the man's long strides.

"You can stay with me tonight if ya want. I figure it'll be better than leavin' you out here all by yourself."

Ichigo froze in his steps, his eyes widening. He blinked.

Grimmjow paused, turning around to gaze at the youth, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"What?" He asked.

Ichigo continued to stare up at his English teacher, completely at a loss for what he had just heard from the man. He didn't find the notion unpleasant or awkward as such, but rather, he found that he was unable to believe that his sensei would willingly go out of his way to do such a thing for him.

Ichigo truly appreciated the thought, and without really understanding why, he found that he had shaken his head, grinning slightly.

"No, nothing. Thanks… I'd like to."

Grimmjow grunted faintly in response, a slight grin pulling at his lips.

"Alright then. Come on, my car's over there."

Ichigo smiled in return, digging his notepad and pen into his pocket as he hurried after the teacher, falling into step beside him once more.


	4. Authors and Ambitions

**Chapter 4: Authors and Ambitions **

"Wow… nice car…"

Grimmjow turned his head to gaze at the youth beside him, Ichigo's brows raised in an expression of astonishment as his warm brown eyes fell upon the sight of the taller man's car.

The teacher couldn't help the wide grin that formed on his lips.

"Isn't she just?" He said proudly, his cyan irises gazing lovingly at the 2014 Ford Mustang GT which was parked and lying in wait a few metres ahead. Its sleek metallic black body shone warmly in the last dying embers of the sun's rays - the electric cobalt blue of the vehicle's body paint a striking contrast of perfection. The customised rims reflected a bright pure silver, the very vehicle itself seeming to call out and plead silkily to be driven.

"I've had her for a while. She's an absolute dream to drive and purrs like a babe." Grimmjow continued, taking out his keys and making to unlock the doors.

Ichigo's lips split into a smile.

"You sure you're really an English teacher?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement as he drew up alongside the passenger car door. Grimmjow snorted a laugh.

"Shut up and just get in." The man grinned, wider than before.

Ichigo chuckled, reaching out and settling his hand on the door handle, pulling it and sliding himself into the spacious seat that met him. His eyes alit with appreciation at the smooth leather interior, the modern gadgets greeting him and almost begging to be touched. He resisted the temptation to lay his hands all over the seat and dashboard, and instead focused on fastening his seatbelt.

The smile never left his face.

"See what I mean? She's a beauty." Grimmjow chuckled, his expression smug as he had been studying Ichigo's reaction when the youth had seated himself down. The orange haired teen lifted his head to gaze at his teacher, his smile widening. He nodded.

Grimmjow cracked another grin, pleased to see that the boy's mood had lifted considerably. He slid himself down into the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition and allowing the deep rumbling purr of the engine to resonate around the parking lot.

"I don't live too far from here. It's probably another twenty minutes or so." The blue haired man continued as he reversed, straightening the car and then driving forwards, beginning the drive towards the park entry.

Ichigo murmured faintly in understanding, his eyes once more sweeping over the car. A slight smile formed on his lips when he looked at his teacher, feeling a deep appreciation once more for the older man's offer to help him. Ichigo settled himself back against the leather of the seat, a quiet sigh falling from his lips. His warm brown eyed gaze moved to watch the streets passing by, the world outside flying past as they drove along.

The blur of café-lined terraces and the emerald green of tree-lined walkways intertwined and mingled together underneath the now-darkened evening sky, casting an almost ethereal stream of colour and bold shapes against the window.

Ichigo felt the weary exhaustion of the day slowly start to take its toll on his body, and he stifled a yawn with his hand.

His mind was still an inner turmoil of rage, depression and frustration – yet the weight on his heart felt lessened to some extent at having finally been able to have voiced the pain and hurt he had been holding onto for so long.

He thought it was slightly ironic that it would be his English teacher he would open up to about his father, yet deep inside, Ichigo thought that he wouldn't rather it any other way. If he had told his friends, they would act like everyone else. They would urge him to seek help. They would urge him to speak to counsellors and the police. Which would be fine normally, but not once would they think about _his_ feelings regarding the matter – they would only look at him as Kurosaki Ichigo, high school student who had been known to be involved in fights since the day he could first walk. Yet the man next to him, Ichigo was of the distinct impression, could perhaps understand him closer than anyone else ever could. He would look at Ichigo the way no one else ever had in those past few minutes of conversation – as a human being, an individual whose inner thoughts ran deeper than he cared to let on, desperate to make themselves known and to be heard.

For the first time in five months, Ichigo felt as if he could finally begin to be himself again, and learn to let go of his reclusive state of mind.

And not for the first time, he was grateful that this man was his teacher.

"I'll get us some food when we get there. There's a spare room you can bunk in for the night."

Ichigo nodded appreciatively at Grimmjow's words as his eyes slid closed, his head leaning against his hand on the car windowsill.

Grimmjow turned his head to gaze at the teen, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

He was glad the kid had finally seemed to let go of the mask that he had been hiding himself behind. Now that he knew the truth of what was going on, he could help the youth as much as he could.

Cyan eyes sweeping over the near-sleeping form of the younger male, the teen's boyish features marked with fatigue, Grimmjow found himself sighing as he turned his head to eye the road in front once more.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles almost turning white against his tanned skin.

_I still can't believe all the shit from that bastard he has to put up with. _

His gaze hardening and his jaw clenching, Grimmjow's expression was resolute. He had promised Ichigo he would help him, and he intended to see that promise through with everything he could.

* * *

Ichigo eyed the two-storied town house with raised eyebrows, his warm brown eyes taking in the cream coloured bricks and the smooth tiled roofs. The driveway was extensive, able to fit up to three cars at once. The garden was immaculate, the shrubs and trees well-selected to suit the homey appearance of the house itself.

The deep rumbling of the car came to a cease, Grimmjow shutting off the engine and removing his keys. He turned his head to gaze at Ichigo, watching as the teen continued to study the house in front of him from out of the window.

"You gonna get out or stay in here all night?" Grimmjow asked, a blue eyebrow raised in amusement.

Ichigo stirred, blinking and turning to look at his teacher, rolling his eyes and smiling despite himself as he pulled on the door handle, swinging it open and stepping out. Grimmjow grinned again, doing likewise and shutting the door behind him, locking the vehicle and making his way over towards the front door of his house.

The sound of his keys jangled from his palm as he stopped underneath the front porch, reaching out and unlocking the front door. Ichigo watched this for a moment before glancing around once more at the quiet street his teacher's house was situated on.

He was surprised to discover when they had turned into this neighbourhood that the taller man lived in one of the many higher class districts of Karakura Town, though the teen found himself thinking that this probably shouldn't have come as such a surprise. After all, the car that the man drove was self-explanatory that he was quite well off in the finance department.

The sound of crickets chirped faintly in the distance, the sky now darkened into the ebony black of night. Stars flickered faintly above, and the smoky fire of the collection of the city's lights glimmered from down below beneath the black clefts of the surrounding hills. The breeze blew faintly across the lamp-lit street, carrying with it the crisp musk of the chilled night's scent.

A triumphant "aha!" sounded from next to him, and Ichigo turned his head as the door opened, Grimmjow elbowing it out of the way to allow the teen through.

Ichigo grinned his reply, stepping forth into the darkened corridor. The sound of fumbling behind him echoed faintly off the walls, the house becoming flooded with light a few seconds later as Grimmjow found the switch. He shut the door behind them, letting out a sigh as he ran a hand through his messy blue locks, stretching faintly.

"Just settle yerself down in the kitchen, and I'll go order us somethin'. I'll give you a proper tour after we've had somethin' to eat, provided you can keep yerself awake."

Ichigo turned his gaze to his teacher, nodding his understanding. Grimmjow grunted faintly in satisfaction to this, and strode off down into the living room to get the phone.

Ichigo watched the taller man head off before beginning his slow exploration of the hallway. It was wide and spacious, the walls a faint cream colour and decorated here and there with various pictures of cars, sport photos and literature snippets from newspapers and magazines.

The orange haired boy continued further along, his lips pulling into a smile as he eyed the comfortable looking lounge room, a large TV situated on top of a chestnut cabinet table; plush leather couches were seated around the soft carpet on the floor, bookcases lined with texts on either side of the walls.

His teacher's house was surprisingly pristine and well-kept, something which caused Ichigo's eyes to light up with amusement as he regarded that the man who lived here seemed to exude an air that he was anything but.

Movement sounded from behind him, and Ichigo turned his head to see his sensei approaching, phone in hand. Grimmjow met Ichigo's gaze and raised a brow.

"Kitchen's that way." He jerked his head to the side, a grin pulling at his lips as he indicated the hallway to his left.

Ichigo laughed.

"Nice place you have here." He mentioned as he followed his teacher down the hall.

A faint scoff pulled at Grimmjow's lips.

"What, a guy with an attitude like me can't have a nice house? That's some fine bullshit goin' on in yer head there, Kurosaki." He retorted, his grin widening.

Ichigo snorted a laugh, eyeing the expansive white-washed tiles and gleaming black bench tops of the kitchen with an appreciative glance when they entered. A view of the hills outside could just be made visible through the warm yellow glow of the lights as they reflected from the windows.

Modern appliances decked the kitchen counters, with chairs centred around the island in the middle of the workspace. Everything was just as immaculate as the living room they had entered in from, and Ichigo found himself mildly in awe of the calming atmosphere of this man's home.

It was vibrant and flecks of colour seeped through – fragments of the man's colourful personality, one could liken it to – in the form of various knick knacks and posters, awards and books, and amusing photographs.

"I'll ring up Di Roy and see if he can score us some takeaway ramen."

Ichigo lifted his head to gaze at his teacher as the blue haired man began pressing in numbers on the phone. He frowned slightly in confusion as he moved over to one of the chairs, settling himself down and laying his hands on the glossy black tabletop.

"Di Roy?" The orangette questioned.

Grimmjow looked back to him.

"Di Roy Rinker. He's a friend o' mine. Owns the local takeaway store." He explained. Ichigo blinked, nodding his head in understanding. Grimmjow placed the phone to his ear, grabbing a menu leaflet off of the kitchen counter and striding back out into the living room so he could make the call.

"Yo, Di Roy. Yeah it's me. Got an order I want… yeah I _do _know what time it is, ya lazy bastard…"

Ichigo couldn't help the wide grin that formed on his lips as he heard the trailing conversation when Grimmjow headed off. Chuckling, he shook his head briefly before letting out a quiet sigh.

He leant his head over his arms on the tabletop, glancing around the kitchen lazily once more.

Allowing himself to become lulled by the comforting warmth of the room and the gentle lighting, his limbs and mind relaxed, Ichigo soon found it within himself to doze off into a light slumber while he waited for dinner to arrive.

* * *

Grimmjow huffed a faint sigh as he walked back into the kitchen, the takeaway meal safely stowed inside the plastic bag he had taken from Di Roy at the front door.

He scoffed faintly, the lazy-ass blond having chastised him quite colourfully for his late-night order when he had arrived to deliver the meal.

His lips pulling into a faint smile, the English teacher shook his head at the memory, sighing again when he turned the corner into the dim-lit room of the kitchen. He was about to call out to Ichigo that his food was here when he paused in his tracks. A heavier sigh than before passing his lips, Grimmjow quietly set the bag onto the glossy black table surface beside the boy's shoulder. The youth had fallen asleep, his head nestled against his arms.

Grimmjow took a moment to silently study the teen, his mind once again swimming from what he had learnt earlier that afternoon about this enigma student of his.

_Poor kid. It kinda seems rude to wake him right now._

Contemplating leaving Kurosaki to rest for a few minutes longer, the cyan eyed man raised his gaze to check the time on the wall clock. He frowned slightly – it was 9:30pm. Reaching up a hand to run it through his wild blue locks, Grimmjow looked back to the fatigued younger male.

_But he's gotta eat. It looks like he hasn't had anything all day. _

Coming to his decision he exhaled sharply, reaching out and gently touching a hand to the boy's shoulder.

"Kurosaki, you wakin' up any time soon?"

He didn't get a response. Frowning faintly he applied a little more pressure, lightly shaking the teen's shoulder in the hopes that he would be able to wake the orangette up that way. All he got in return to his efforts was a barely audible mumble.

Rolling his eyes, Grimmjow tried again.

"Oi, Ichigo. Dinner's here. C'mon, you'll be able to get some sleep as soon as you get some food in ya."

There was another faint mumble.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes once more, removing his hand and reaching over to pull the food out of the bag. He almost salivated at the glorious smells that were wafting from the plastic bowls inside. Despite his friend Di Roy having a rather agitated outlook on life, always complaining about the slightest issue, he could certainly make an excellent ramen which could absolutely blow the mind.

Even now, Grimmjow felt his stomach growl in anticipation to the plethora of sweet spices and braised meats that were filling the kitchen with their tantalising scent. Grabbing out some chopsticks for both himself and his guest, he couldn't help but flash a grin towards the faintly stirring teen currently asleep on his tabletop.

_If this doesn't wake him up, there's seriously somethin' wrong with him. _

His smirk becoming triumphant as he indeed beheld the youth twitching and mumbling a light groan from behind his hands, Grimmjow reached out and ruffled the back of the kid's head with his hand, absentmindedly taking note of the feel of the soft locks of hair despite their spiked appearance. His cyan gaze was drawn momentarily towards the large ugly bruise which marred the teen's bicep as the youth's arm shifted.

His smile faded, his fingertips tracing over the wounded skin lightly. His brows furrowed in dark contemplation.

_No one should have to put up with that. _

His attention was drawn back to the orangette when the youth's arm shifted, Ichigo's head lifting slowly and his warm brown eyes blinking open with some effort.

"Grimm…jow? Wha' is it?" He mumbled sleepily, bringing up his hands and rubbing his eyes.

Grimmjow scoffed faintly.

"Real cute, Kurosaki. I've been tryin' to wake you up for a while now." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. Something which sounded like a mumble of apology passed Ichigo's lips, the youth blinking once more and settling his bleary gaze on the taller man before his eyes fell to take in the food in front of him.

"Holy fuck that smells good."

A bark of laughter left Grimmjow's lips, his grin widening as he took his own seat opposite the teen, uncapping the lid of his meal and snapping apart the cheap wooden chopsticks. Holding them, he began to eat his meal, kicking his feet back and crossing one leg over the other on the kitchen tabletop, a satisfied sigh passing his lips as he partook in the heavenly meal.

Ichigo quickly lifted the lid off of his own food, his eyes widening as he saw the brilliant array of delectable looking vegetables, meats and noodles before him. Trying his best to not drool, he picked up his own chopsticks and voraciously tucked into his food, a low groan of delight passing his lips as his mouth became assaulted by a symphony of absolute indulgence.

"Good, isn't it?" Grimmjow grinned, eyeing the teen's reaction. Ichigo quickly nodded his head in agreement, too busy with bringing up yet another large mouthful of noodles and meat to his mouth and swallowing it eagerly.

"Woah, ya better slow down, Ichigo. You might get an ulcer or somethin'." Grimmjow's eyes widened faintly, his tone still amused yet now mildly concerned as Ichigo continued to shovel mouthful after mouthful down.

_Damn that kid really _hasn't _had anything to eat all day by the looks of it._

Ichigo slowly lifted his gaze to find his teacher's eyes on him, the blue haired males' eyebrows raised and his expression formed into one of complete and utter disbelief. He quickly averted his eyes back to his food, almost kicking himself as he felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

"Sorry." He mumbled, swallowing another mouthful and sighing. "But it's kinda hard. I mean this stuff is brilliant."

A low chuckle sounded from the other man, Grimmjow resuming his own food. He merely shrugged in response, his grin back in place.

Willing his cheeks to cool down, Ichigo smiled faintly, continuing with his meal at a more tolerable pace. A pleasant silence passed between the two for a few moments, the atmosphere only filled with the sounds of food being consumed.

Presently, Grimmjow spoke up again, his gaze once more looking over the youth and regarding him closely.

"If ya don't mind me asking, Ichi, is there another reason why you're so interested in writing?"

The teen looked up from the last few mouthfuls of his meal, quickly swallowing what he was currently eating before replacing his now empty bowl back onto the kitchen counter. A faint clouded look appeared in his warm brown eyes as he gazed at the opposite wall, seeming to become lost in his own thoughts.

"I… want to be a writer one day." He spoke up presently, his tone barely audible.

Grimmjow tilted his head to the side slightly as he gazed at the boy opposite him, regarding him with curiosity.

"Is that so?" He murmured. He received a nod.

Another few seconds of silence went by, Ichigo's brown eyes glancing over the kitchen they were seated in. It appeared he was choosing his next words carefully. He rested his elbows on the black tabletop, his chin falling into the palm of his hand. His expression became pensive, faraway and as if he was absorbing himself into his own thoughts.

"Before mum… well… y'know… she always told me that she loved my writing. I would spend every spare moment I had just losing myself with my imagination. I would write about everything and anything, and she was always there to support me. She told me to stick with what I loved, and for as long as I can remember being an author has been my ambition. More than anything, more than using it as a way to help me forget about my life, I… want to do this for her. So she knows that I won't forget about her."

Grimmjow continued to remain silent as Ichigo told him this. The teen's tone was soft, his warm brown eyes becoming glazed over with the increasingly familiar sense of burning determination that the teacher was learning formed a predominant part of his character.

Whenever he spoke about his mother and his sisters, his gaze would become focused, his brown irises radiating with a strength which was only rivalled by that of his fiery demeanour.

The more Grimmjow was aware of this, the more he found himself beginning to understand those eyes. And in doing so, he was beginning to understand more about the teen who had subconsciously embedded himself within his mind, urging him to peel away at each reclusive layer of the orange haired youth to finally reveal the true personality within.

"I think she knows you won't forget about her, no matter what." Grimmjow said quietly, a faint smile pulling at his lips. At this, Ichigo blinked, turning to look back to his sensei.

The teen's expression quickly became moulded over with a look of flushed embarrassment, his eyes shifting to stare at the glossy bench they were sitting at.

"I know. But… I promised her." He replied simply, the words almost going unheard.

Grimmjow caught them though, and his smile grew as he leant back further in his chair. This kid really was something else. He didn't know whether it was this selfless determination for others, or his willingness to see things through no matter the consequences on his personal self, or if it was the unfaltering kindness he now saw in those warm brown orbs, but Grimmjow found himself in a state of awe.

"I really admire that, Kurosaki." He could have almost laughed aloud at the shocked expression that formed on the teen's face as soon as those words left his lips. He continued, his smile forming into a wide grin.

"Writing's not the easiest path to go down, Ichi, but take it from me – you're really determined and I have no doubts about ya succeeding. You have that type of attitude and desire which is genuinely needed in the author's world. Your mother had every right to be proud of you."

Ichigo appeared to stumble over his response, his mouth opening and closing in a rather comical fashion. Eventually his features softened, the teen bringing up a hand and rubbing it through the spiked mass of orange locks upon his head.

He smiled meekly.

"Thanks." He mumbled. Grimmjow only nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"What about you?" The teen asked after a few moments. Grimmjow's brows furrowed in faint confusion.

"What about me?" The blue haired man shifted his legs from where they were still crossed over one another on the table. He fixed Ichigo with a pointed gaze.

The teen shrugged.

"Well, I've told you about myself. It's only fair I learn about you. You sound like you've been in the writing industry before." He elaborated.

Grimmjow brought a hand down to rub over his eyes, a faint chuckle leaving his lips as he did so.

"Well, there ain't much to tell, really. I was an author a while back. Just before I started teaching, actually." He began. He scoffed faintly when he saw Ichigo's eyes widen slightly, the youth's warm brown orbs echoing acute disbelief.

"What? Why're ya lookin' so surprised?" The teacher asked, his cyan eyes glinting with amusement.

Ichigo seemed to regain his composure, the boy shaking his head and giving a mild snorted laugh.

"No, nothing." He replied. "It's just, you don't really look like the type to sit down and write a book." Ichigo's brow rose in a sceptical manner.

Grimmjow barked out a laugh, his grin widening and showing his array of white teeth.

"You'd be surprised, Kurosaki." The blue haired man chuckled. He sighed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze became pensive, his cyan eyes softening as memories of his past were brought back to him. It was a few more seconds until he spoke again.

"I've always been interested in writing, myself. I grew up not knowing my parents, though from what I heard later on I was better off for it. They were nothin' but drug addicts an' abusive as hell. I think my father's still rottin' in jail right about now, too." Another chuckle left Grimmjow's lips, though this time it was saddened, his expression laced with regret.

Ichigo found his eyes drawn to his teacher, unable to look away as he saw that normally prideful, cocky even, face now echoing pain. He frowned slightly – he knew that expression well. His stomach lurched uncomfortably, but nevertheless he remained silent.

"I was sent off to an orphanage. The officials said it was better off sayin' my parents were dead. I was lucky to make a few good friends while I was there, like Di Roy, though most of us were never able to find a home - 'cept fer a few, the lucky bastards. We had to look out fer each other – it was a rough neighbourhood. Kinda like survival of the fittest in a way, I s'pose. You had to be at the top and stay there if you wanted to make it past all the back-stabbing and the fights. How else did ya think I got this accent?" Here, Grimmjow paused, another slight grin pulling at his lips.

Ichigo gave a faint snort of laughter, settling himself back further in his chair as he did so. He continued to train his eyes on his teacher, his brain working through all this new information he was learning about the man in front of him.

Grimmjow leant forwards, propping an elbow on the table. He rested his chin in his palm, his cyan eyes drawing to the opposite wall. His expression became contemplative once more.

"When I earned enough money from the jobs I was able to find, I used it to send me to school. I excelled most at English. I made it to the top o' the class for most every year of my education. Like you, Ichi, I found writing as a way to help me sort of escape from the issues that plagued me in everyday life. It wasn't until I graduated that I decided I wanted to become a writer. I was actually quite successful in it, too."

Here, Ichigo's brows furrowed slightly. His warm brown eyes were filled with an expression of intrigue.

"What books did you write?" He asked. Grimmjow's gaze was brought back to the teen, his blue eyes glancing steadily into brown.

"Just a mini-series called 'Pantera'. Got itself quite the underground cult following, as well. It kinda makes me sad I discontinued it." The taller man replied, shrugging. He blinked when he saw Ichigo's eyes widen, his mouth gaping open in shock. Grimmjow rose a blue eyebrow in response.

"Don't tell me you've read it…"

"You! _You're _the author of 'Pantera'?!" Ichigo exclaimed. He almost fell out of his seat in shock, his brain seeming to become numb.

_No way… no fucking way!_

Grimmjow's brow rose higher in amusement.

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then." He mused, his lips pulling apart into a grin.

Ichigo spluttered a little, his face becoming alight with unbridled excitement, his warm brown eyes wide with an enthusiasm akin to a child opening their presents on Christmas Day.

"That series… has been my favourite since it was first published! The story of that land called Hueco Mundo, those ten Spanish warriors, the dictatorship over everyone by that traitorous overlord, and the ancient mystery surrounding Castillo de Las Noches… there was supposed to be a second instalment, where those soldiers from Seireitei would become one step closer to taking back their land from those new German invaders…" Ichigo breathed eagerly, no longer caring by this point that he was rambling, or that the man opposite him was laughing aloud, the wild rumbling sound filling the air between them.

"Why did you stop it? And what was with the author name? 'G.J. Sexta'?" Ichigo managed to get out a moment later, the realisation that he was making a fool of himself now hitting him and causing his cheeks to flush angrily with embarrassment.

Grimmjow continued to laugh, moving to wipe away the tears which were threatening to brim from his eyes in his mirth. Taking a deep breath, he succeeded in calming himself momentarily so he could answer.

"What are ya? My world's biggest fanboy or somethin'?" He grinned. Another bark of laughter left his lips, the sound trailing off into small chuckles. He smiled, regarding the teen before him with a fond air. He shrugged again.

"That series was a story loosely based off of my life experiences. I just turned it into a fantasy novel. I stopped it 'cos I felt like it wasn't enough for me ta help turn my life around with. I wanted to help people, and the one thing I was good at was writing. So I became a teacher." He explained, his tone now quiet. Ichigo's expression softened, the corners of his lips quirking into a small smile.

"As for the 'Sexta', there's no meaning behind it. It just sounded close enough to 'sexy'." Grimmjow added, waving his hand around as if to emphasise his point.

At this, Ichigo's lips really did pull apart into a wide grin, a snorted laugh falling from his mouth.

"What?!" He gasped out, gripping his stomach; his laughter continued to roil in waves throughout the kitchen.

Grimmjow merely responded with a sly smirk.

"Well I _am _pretty good to look at." He winked. Ichigo snorted once more in amusement, the teen shaking his head and sighing to try and calm himself.

"You really are something else, you know that? I can't believe you're my teacher." He answered, smiling.

Grimmjow barked out another laugh, his manic grin back in place.

Another moment of silence passed, broken only by the faint chuckles emanating from the two. Presently Grimmjow glanced up to the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight.

Stifling a yawn he slowly stood up from the chair, stretching his arms above his head and sighing in satisfaction when he felt the tension ease from his muscles. He glanced down at Ichigo, who moved to rub his hands over his eyes, the teen then making to stifle a yawn of his own.

"Come on, I'll show you to the spare room and you can get some rest." The teacher announced, picking up the empty bowls and utensils from the bench top and dumping the contents into the kitchen bin.

A sleepy sigh sounded from the orange haired youth, Ichigo mumbling some form of acquiescence whilst he moved to extricate himself from his own chair.

Throwing a small smile the teen's way, Grimmjow reached out and moved to flick the switch, the kitchen becoming smothered in the dark of the night when the pair left and ascended the stairs moments later.

* * *

Sighing quietly and running a hand through his damp orange locks now sticking in matted strands to his cheeks, forehead and neck, Ichigo closed the bathroom door and strode forwards to settle himself down on the edge of the bed.

He yawned again, bringing up his hands to rub his eyes which were beginning to sting from tiredness. Sinking back against the soft mattress, his chest heaved with a great exhale of breath as he welcomed the comforting surface supporting him.

Too fatigued by all that had transpired to even worry about towelling the rest of himself off after his hot shower, he spared a lazy glance around the room he would be sleeping in for the night.

Just like the bathroom and the rest of the house, this room was immaculate and well-furnished, the furniture carefully placed and the walls, bookshelves and desk adorned with various pictures. The curtains billowed gracefully against the windowpanes, the moon outside glowing with a pure silver light against the backdrop of the endless black of night, the stars shimmering in the ebony depths.

The night's rays cast ethereal shadows upon the walls which were painted a neutral cream, though now they appeared a cloud-grey in the darkness. The pine wood desk and bookcases were littered with texts and ornaments, serving a constant reminder to the teen that this was indeed the house of a literary academic.

Though, right now, his favourite feature of the room was the bed he was currently lying down upon. Its large king-sized mattress was as soft and as yielding as the feathered pillow under his head, Ichigo immediately finding it hard to resist the lulling urge of sleep which swiftly rose to claim purchase over his exhausted mind.

His eyelids feeling heavy, he drew the warm quilt over his body and slid his weary gaze to the window momentarily, his eyes not really taking in anything except the quickening blur of his vision caused by the moon's glow.

As he drifted on the very edge of lucidity, thoughts of what he had learnt from his English teacher at dinner sprang forth and flickered in-between his scattered brain function.

Ichigo found himself feeling that almost unknowingly, the two had become closer to a sense of mutual understanding of one another. After all, both he and his blue haired sensei had suffered similar childhoods, and they shared the same passion for writing.

It almost felt like Ichigo had found himself a true friend, one who could relate to him like no one else could. Not even Rukia, Sado, Renji, Ishida or Orihime. And to discover that his teacher was also the author of one of his most loved fantasy novels had opened up the teen's eyes to the depths of this man's character, this wild, seemingly rebellious man whom Ichigo had viewed as being insufferably obnoxious and arrogant at first, but had now found himself thinking of with a greater sense of incredulity and reverence.

_He really wants to help me_.

A faint smile forming on his lips, Ichigo's head tilted back further against the pillow. Unable to gather any more coherency in his mind, he lost himself to the clutches of sleep.


	5. IMPORTANT NOTICE

**Important Notice:**

Hi everyone, iJapan here. Firstly, I just want to continue to thank everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed this story so far! The feedback I'm getting has been absolutely lovely, and it's done wonders for my motivation to continue this fic :)

Unfortunately though, due to upcoming exams and last-minute assignments I will have to pause the updates until I can get everything finished. I'm terribly far behind on everything (entirely my fault and I feel like crap about it), so **there will be no updates from now until the 24th of June_. _**

I'm really sorry for the inconvenience, but real life likes to rear its ugly head and well... my university stuff ain't gonna finish itself. Unfortunately. *Glares at it*

So thank you again for everything and for sticking round with me on this so far and I'm looking forward to seeing you all when my workload finally disappears away into nothingness :)

Have a good day/night!

- iJapan


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